


the songbird and the blade

by thesorrowoflizards



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Assassin Alec Lightwood, Betrayal, But implied to be happy, Emotionally Hurt Magnus Bane, Heavy Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Insecure Magnus, Love, M/M, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Prince Magnus Bane, Secret Identity, and in my head it is happy, but not really, don't come after me i wrote this at midnight on a whim, i couldn't sleeeeep, if i ever elaborate on this maybe there'll be more but shrug, poetic and shit, probably super inaccurate politics and royalty, there's a really brief implication of child abuse but it's small, this is weird but actually kinda neat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 11:03:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14567628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesorrowoflizards/pseuds/thesorrowoflizards
Summary: Magnus lies awake every night with a dagger pressed against his back.





	the songbird and the blade

**Author's Note:**

> i'm putting this on anonymous so i can judge in the morning if it's utter trash i wrote at midnight or nah... and if it isn't i'll take it off anon and if it is, i'll.... idk, keep it up on anon? edit heavily then take off anon? fuck, idk. either way, morning me is gonna thank half-asleep 1 am me. you're welcome, bitch
> 
>  **edit:** no longer on anon! thanks, i guess, 1 am me? anyway. it's not trash, congratulations. and if you're reading this and wondering why this isn't written by Anonymous anymore, well, this is why

Magnus can feel the cool edge of the dagger pressed against his spine.

He feels it every night, that ice-cold metal point, pressing and pressing against each notch in his spine. Sometimes it drags up and down, making him shiver, sometimes it presses insistently between his shoulder blades, but never,  _never_ does the man holding it plunge it into his back.

He lay in the arms of his lover, warm and relaxed, sprawled out and completely vulnerable. Naked, in every possible way. 

Just him, the silken sheets, Alexander, and the cool, unforgiving blade.

Magnus has never said anything those long nights. He's almost always awake--although he has no doubts that even when he sleeps, Alexander is tracing him with that dagger, looking for where to strike--but he never says a goddamn word.

Because he loves Alexander. He does.

And anyway, who said he didn't deserve this?

He waits. Waits for the day Alec gets sick of tracing, waits for the day he finally gets the courage to just  _do it already._

He tries not to wonder why Alec never does it. Perhaps his plans aren't ready yet, perhaps there is something left to steal from Magnus other than his cracked and shriveled heart, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

No use dwelling on that.

He waits.

Until he can't anymore.

He just can't. He can't do this, he can't-- he can't love Alec and act like everything's okay because  _nothing_ is okay. Nothing is okay and Magnus can't live like this any longer. Can't live on the edge of a knifeblade, waiting to have the ground yanked from underneath him, waiting for the betrayal he knows is going to come.

He snaps.

 

 

Alec does this every night.

Tracing the dagger up his spine, pressing the tip in, almost breaking skin before withdrawing. 

Never harming, never hurting, always daring.

He was supposed to kill Magnus Bane. That was his job--seduce the prince, gain his trust, steal anything of value, and kill him without mercy.

And who wouldn't accept? The royal family were monsters, they were horrible and awful, they were the reason the kingdom was suffering so much. The king was already dying, some rare disease contracted on a distant battlefield. Some say his black rot of a heart was finally eating away at him. The queen was long since dead, having killed herself after conceiving a child with the man she'd been forced to marry. And killing their cruel, greedy son by seducing him and murdering him in his own bed? Ending the Bane family line for good? That would be something Alec would quite enjoy.

Only he meets Magnus.

And he's not cruel and greedy, he's not the monster Alec always imagined.

He's kind, even when he shouldn't be. He's sweet and sincere and ever so lost. Trapped.

He's a broken and hurt, a songbird trapped in a large gilded cage filled with snakes.

It wasn't hard to seduce him--Alec didn't even have to steal gold or jewels to catch his attention. Just plucked flowers and sweet words and the man sang like a bird, falling under Alec's spell easily.

But soon it wasn't seduction.

Alec fucked him on his fancy rug, fucked him against the cold stone walls of his room. And then he carried him to his stupid, lavish bed and fucked him there. He made him scream and moan and beg and it was  _so easy._  

(And so fun. So wonderful. To be so close and warm and intimate with someone who genuinely wasn't trying to use him.)

But then, night came and all he could do was look where Magnus was lying beneath him on those silk sheets, vulnerable and asleep and so oddly innocent-looking, and Alec couldn't bring himself to do it.

Couldn't bring himself to plunge the dagger into Magnus's heart.

Because he was kind (offering coin to a passing servant's child, doing little magic tricks for her and making her laugh) he was sweet ("You have such a good heart," he'd told Alec quietly, smiling, "I barely know you and I can feel it." and Alec had heard many, many compliments from his marks before but never quite so sincere) and lost (the king walks by and Magnus loses his smile, standing straighter, and barely winces when the king slaps him, and when Alec emerges from his hiding place and checks if he's okay he brushes it off carelessly) and--he's not what Alec imagined at all.

So he stays.

He tells himself he's gathering intel. That the deeper undercover he gets, the closer he gets to the royal family, the more damage he can do, the more things he can take.

But every night he grows closer to Magnus.

They laugh together, they talk and kiss and--

(Alec makes love to him on that fancy rug, makes love to him against the cold stone walls of the room. And then he carries him to his warm, soft bed and makes love to him there, makes him scream and moan and beg)

\--Alec just can't.

The more he gets to know Magnus, the harder it is. The further they advance their relationship--sharing meals, courting, dancing, laughing, until one day Magnus blurts out  _I love you, you know,_ and Alec is completely helpless to say anything but  _I_ _love you, too,_ and kiss him fervently. 

Magnus has nightmares, sometimes, and Alec always slides the dagger under his pillow and then pulls Magnus into his arms, rubbing his back gently with his palm and running his fingers through his hair soothingly, kissing his forehead. And eventually he calms down and cries quietly into Alec's shoulder.

Alec has nightmares sometimes, too, and those days Magnus hugs him and murmurs soothing things in his ear as he kisses his forehead and gives him something to hold onto.

But mostly, Alec finds it hard to sleep, sleeping in small intervals and spending his nights torturing himself. Pulling out the cool, silver blade he was supposed to kill Magnus with. Holding Magnus, wondering how easy it would be to plunge this dagger into him now, to slide it between his ribs and have him quietly bleed out before he ever woke up. 

With the Prince dead, the line would fall to the Herondale family, and someone else would be king. Someone worthy. The Bane family would be done for as soon as Asmodeous died, which was bound to be soon.

And with the job done, he would be handsomely paid, his family would be happy and well-off, and he might even be able to quit this godforsaken job. 

But.

But, but, but.

Pressing the point of the dagger to Magnus's back felt like pressing it to his own heart. 

Would Magnus be a bad king?

Alec didn't think so.

 

Magnus was a good man. A good, kind man. And to be honest, he was good king material. Much better than Jace, anyway, even if Alec did love his friend.

But to admit that he couldn't kill Magnus was to give up his mission. To give up his mission was to leave, to slip into the night and vanish.

To never make love to Magnus on thei-- on  _his_ bed again, to never kiss him or hold him or talk to him on those long nights where neither of them could sleep.

To vanish, and have Magnus never know what happened to him. To leave him alone again among the snakes.

His grip on the dagger slipped slightly, letting it hang from his fingers. He was too careful and well-trained to let it actually nick Magnus, and Magnus was a heavy sleeper, so he'd never know. 

And Alec never wanted him to know.

 

"Alec?" murmured Magnus sleepily, face still buried in Alec's shoulder. It's sudden and unexpected, and despite the muffled daze, his voice is surprisingly clear.

Alec froze, holding the dagger more firmly, making sure not to let it go.

Magnus was draped face-down over him, one arm thrown over his shoulders, face in the crook of his neck. Alec's arms were around him, one poised above him so that the dagger was held right between his shoulder blades, inches above the skin.

"What?" Alec asked, voice rough from disuse. 

"If you're going to kill me," Magnus said, voice still muffled, "can you please make it painless?"

Alec's heart became icy stone. "What?" he asked, mouth dry, licking his lips.

Magnus lifted his head to look at Alec closer. His brown eyes were bleary in the dark, and rimmed red. His expression was hard to make out in the dark, but it wasn't hard to imagine.

"I know you're going to kill me," Magnus whispered. "It's okay."

"W-what?" is all Alec can say, stuck on repeat.

Magnus shuffled closer, shifting so that he was still in Alec's arms (still under the dagger, still exposed and vulnerable and in danger) but more upright. 

"I know you're an assassin," he said. "I know that you don't really--love me," his voice broke at that but he acted like he wasn't affected at all, "and really, it's... it's okay. I'm not... I'm not going to fight you."

"I--Magnus," Alec says helplessly, at a loss for words, dumbstruck. A million questions flicker and fly through his head like a swarm of erratic birds:  _How does Magnus know? How long has he known?_ and  _I can hear how wrecked and ripped apart he sounds, did i do this?_ and, selfishly,  _Does he love me? Did he ever?_

 

"I just... if you ever cared for me... at all... just please," Magnus said, ducking his head again, "Make it painless?"

"You--Magnus, I... how long have you known?"

Magnus smiled bitterly, sadly, and even though Alec couldn't see it he could almost  _feel_ it, feel the misery coming off the prince in waves. "You said you loved me," he said, like that was enough. "Nobody could love  _me._ "

When Alec didn't say anything, he laughed. A humorless, sad, soft sound.

"It's okay. Really, it is. I-- I honestly didn't expect otherwise. I'm a prince, I long since learned the only reason people want me is to _use_ me. I liked you, so I ignored that basic rule, told myself you'd be different... but when you went that far, I started having sleepless nights. And I felt that cold dagger pressed against my back and I knew."

His voice was almost bitter, but more deeply sad and hurt and resigned than anything.

"I don't expect you to pity me," he said, a twist of self-loathing and anger curling into his voice. "Why should I complain? A million others have it a million times worse than me, and a good deal of them are in the very kingdom I'm set to inherit."

"Magnus," Alec said, voice barely a whisper. 

"So please, just... get it over with."

When had Alec had ever heard Magnus sound so tired?

Magnus snuggled closer to him  _(how could he bear to touch Alec?)_ and continued, uncaring that his voice was muffled. "Just pay me that little bit of kindness, please. Let me die like this. In your arms, pretending that... that it wasn't a lie."

He went still, curled in his arms, awaiting death.

 

There were a million thoughts crashing and flying through Alec's head, horror and shock and sadness and anger, but somehow the one that makes it to the forefront of his mind is  _my arm is really getting tired._

Then, a loud and empathetic (but still only internal and silent)  ** _fuck._**

He gently turned, ignoring the little noise Magnus made against his shoulder (the prince's own shoulders were shaking slightly with barely suppressed sobs) and gently set the dagger down next to them, not bothering to put it on the bedside table just yet.

And then he gathered the man in his arms close, kissing his forehead as if this was all just a nightmare, and whispered, " _Go to sleep, Magnus. It'll all be okay tomorrow."_

Magnus sobbed again. "Thank you," he whispered against Alec's neck, "thank you. Thank you."

(He couldn't believe Alec was being so merciful, couldn't believe Alec was being so kind. Letting him fall asleep so that he'd never wake up, never feel the pain-- so that he could fall asleep in his beloved's arms and never wake up.)

(No more endless nights loving so much and loving so hard only to feel the cold press of the knife's edge. No more pain in his chest wondering which of Alec's smiles were real. No more letting Alec kiss him and fuck him and hold him and wondering how much of it was real, how much Alec like it. No more wondering if Alec liked the fact Magnus was in the dark, no more wondering if this was all a cruel game to him. No more living among snakes, no more denying he was in bed with one. No more. Just rest, just sleeping in his arms.)

(It was the kindest death Magnus could ask for. More than he deserved.)

(He'd found out who Alec was, once he was certain that he wasn't some visiting lord who happened to catch Magnus's eye. He was an assassin, a well-known one, and he'd been hired by the Herondales to make their son the next heir. And of course, he was a close friend of their son, and he had a family to feed.)

(All things much more important than a pretty face and a tight hole to fuck.)

~~(you love him but he doesn't love you you're a monster)~~

 

Alec's heart clenched as he heard Magnus's soft crying, his awful gratitude. 

He clutched Magnus closer, arms tight and unyielding around him. Magnus was going to be safe tonight. Completely safe.

No dagger, no nightmares, no _anything_ was going to bother him.

When he was finally lulled to sleep by Alec's fingers in his hair and soft humming, Alec shifted, gently and carefully laying him on the bed.

He took the knife, raising it, looking down at Magnus. 

And he buried it deep in the wood of the bedside table. It made a noise, but Magnus barely stirred. 

Alec looked down at him.

His messy hair was unstyled and fluffy, dark and soft-looking. There were dried tear tracks down his face and bags under his red-rimmed eyes. His lips were pink and kissable. He looked exhausted and fragile. He looked beautiful and vulnerable.

Vulnerable. Yes, especially that.

Even after everything. Even after  _everything,_ he still fell asleep with Alec at night. Trusted him. Or didn't care if Alec hurt him. Or some twisted combination of both.

Alec kissed his forehead and pulled Magnus into his arms.

He'd be safe.

And in the morning, they'd talk.

 

(He tries not to think how Magnus will react in the morning when he wakes up in the arms of the man who tried to kill him, when he wakes up  _not dead,_ when he wakes up and Alec has to--has to eloquently explain that he  _always_ loved Magnus, that so little of it had been a lie.)

(He hopes Magnus will still love him. Will forgive him after all he's done.)

(He also hopes he doesn't, because he doesn't deserve it. And Magnus certainly doesn't deserve having to forgive him, either.)

(But his treacherous heart still loves and hopes and beats with each breath Magnus takes.)

(He kisses Magnus's forehead, not knowing what tomorrow will bring.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> i mean this is supposed to be a oneshot but if morning me likes it who knows? maybe i'll write more
> 
> also to be clear while that's kind of an open ending i'm 100% imagining them waking up and. talking shit out. and getting a happy ending. so.
> 
>  **edit:** honestly i've been so busy (and sick ugh) i forgot to take this off anon. honestly i barely remember writing it i just remember being very tired and very sad and in a malec mood  
>  anYWAY yeah i might continue this if i get The Inspiration but i'm still working on my multichapter fic so


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